


If I could say what you'd like to hear (I'd whisper in your ear)

by Individual_68



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Individual_68/pseuds/Individual_68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starts at the end of Tears. From there is (as far as I know) all my own minds ramblings. </p><p>What happens when Kahlan realises Richard is not her OTP?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I could say what you'd like to hear (I'd whisper in your ear)

The sky is clear. The sun shines brighter. Easier. As though its rays are cleansing the four figures. Standing still. Waiting for something. Hoping. That it is all truly over. That they have won. The quest is really over. 

There is no grand thunderclap. No booming voice crying out. In defeat nor victory. No last minute, final, unseen, inescapable hurdle. No trick of their combined imagining. Shared dream. Delusion. Powerful Magics.

For a moment they wait. To see. If they are really done.

Finally. All of them seem to relax minutely. Release a shared breath. Of relief. None of them had realised they had been holding in. 

***

Richard’s arms wrap around her. And so many emotions should run through her.

She knows this. As sure as she knows her own name. Yet all she feels is exhaustion. A bone deep all-consuming tiredness. As though two years of worry, sleepless nights and imminent peril have finally chosen this moment to fall on her shoulders. To remind her. It is time to rest. It is over. 

“Let’s make camp,” the taciturn blonde speaks finally. Voicing the though they all held. It has been a long day. Week. Month. Year. Travelling to an inn now seems less pleasurable than beginning the quest anew. Almost.

The four companions move. Finally. Slowly. Deliberately. Not even needing to discuss the matter further. As one they have agreed to find the patch of woods a half league back. There they can take stock. 

Richard’s arms have dropped from her body. But Kahlan notices his hand still remains. As though he needs to keep touching her. If his hand drops from her she might disappear. Only through the tactile reminder can her truly know she is real. Solid. She allows him the indulgence. She almost needs the same reminder. The grounding that can only come from the touch of a friend. 

So they walk. Cara and Zedd a few paces behind. Both hold their silence. Cara through habit. The Wizard through reluctance. To voice any of the myriad of thoughts racing though his mind. Frightened to shatter the peace that has fallen. Unwilling to break through the others reveres.

As they reach the trees life seems to regain further normality. They each set about their usual camp duties without requiring a conversation. Cara collects fire wood. Kahlan sets out bed rolls. Zedd searches their packs for food. Richard flits. Cara would say something about his resemblance to a puppy had she the energy. Or even the will. Her whole body tense and brow wrinkled in thought. Deep and consuming. He grates even on Kahlan and Zedd’s nerves. But they too say nothing. Allow him this. He has been through so much. They all have. He continues to take any excuse to touch the brunette.

Everything seems to take longer than usual. Or perhaps the sun simply shares their exhaustion and chooses to set early this evening. As it does a fire crackles. A meal is shared. Weary travellers rest. Relax. Join each other in a moment without worry. Fear. Duty. Simply bask in the comfortable silence that only comes after so long in each other’s company. 

And finally they begin to realise the true impact of the day’s adventure. 

Richard sits. Staring at the sky. Watching stars twinkle. Thinks of taking the time to count them. Of returning to Hartland. The sky always seems bigger there. Building a house in the woods of his childhood. Regaining some of that innocence. Time separates him. Time and trauma and a million other things. But he could go back. Make a life. A home. A family. And his eyes dart to his Kahlan. His intended. His love. The life they can now share fills his mind.

Kahlan’s eyes do not register the Seeker. They seem to focus on the fire. The flames licking the logs in a hypnotic rhythm. But they are in fact turned in wards. The day has drained her of so many things. She should feel joyous. As she knows Richard does. She failed to confess him. She knows what that means. To them. Or at least to him. Can imagine all the thoughts running through her head. That she knows should be running through her own. Because she saw them all in his eyes. In that moment. 

As the Con Dar fell from her mind. Her eyes locked with his. Still clear. Brown. Showing nothing but the love that has always been there. His mind caught up with the world around him. Realised the enormity of what had just happened. Of hand not. And suddenly she sees the future he dreams of. Thoughts painted more clearly than if he had spoken them aloud.

And her heart broke. 

Or did not. Not exactly. It grew up. It realised. That dark unwieldy thought. That constant nagging doubt. The voice that whispered quietly, yet louder. Day by day. Finally heard. Clearly. Finally. Screaming. Resolutely. He is not your future. 

The thought slammed into her body.Just as her magic had done to Richard. But this time it took something with it. He rbreath. Her resolve. Removed the iron rod of determination which had held her rigid all these months. Her body had sagged. And only the truth had remained. Only her. Still alive. But drained of all that had been driving her forward. Gasping a the pain of reality remaining. 

His future. Her future. Not their future. Their paths must diverge. Two years of pretending. Crashing down around her in that moment. He wants Kahlan. But she is the Mother Confessor too. He does not see that. Does not understand. 

Sitting by the fire the brunette cannot blame him. She has led him on. Let him believe. Enjoyed the fantasy as well. That they could walk down that path together. As they have strolled down so many together in the past. This one he must walk alone.

He wants the woman she could be. Without her power. Her duty. Her mask. Not the person she is. Will forever be. He does not see. Does not comprehend. The two are separate but inseparable. They are both her. She has shown him too much of one. He does not grasp the presence of the other. Often forgotten but never far. The need for both. To be complete. Despite everything he still has not learnt. Of the need. Hers. Her peoples.

Her eyes flash to him now. Realising how you he looks. Has he always seemed so? So childlike? So innocent?

But then is that not what drew her to him? That childlike wonder. Not damaged. Broken. Unharmed by the realities of the world. Even now. With everything they have seen. Everything he has done. Still believes in the happily ever after. 

He is not in love with her. He is in love with the idea of her. The one he hold in his mind. Completely. Utterly. Falsely. In love with a dream.

A sigh escapes her lips. She sees his head turn in her direction. Forces a smile to meet his. Open and honest. Like always. And it turns her blood cold. With anger. For a Seeker of Truth the boy lies so well. To himself at least. 

“I am going to bed.” Kahlan rises as she releases the words. A statement of fact. Informing any that care to listen. 

Richard stands too. Moves towards her. Keen. Clearly misreading her words. Misunderstanding. Sometimes she could swear he does it on purpose. No one could be so naïve. 

“I am exhausted.”

She turns to the others. Blanking Richard. Walking in the opposite direction. 

“Wake me for my watch?” The words sound sluggish even to her own ears. Speak of the fatigue inside her. 

Cara simply nods. Zedd mumbles something around a mouthful of bread. The Confessor allows a small smile. These people have become her family. Closer than any friends she might have had. Closer than she thought she’d ever allow. They have touched her. Changed her. She is better for having known them. 

And she will miss them greatly.

Walking to her bed roll she passes Cara. The blonde’s eyes meet hers at the last possible moment. 

Confessors cannot read Mord’Sith. 

Yet something in those eyes. Something. Makes her breath catch. Speeds up her heart. And is burning itself into her mid. Behind her eyelids. Somehow she knows that look will haunt her dreams tonight. 

Even more so now. Kahlan welcomes sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little set up for the rest of the fic. Cara/Kahlan coming soon


End file.
